


The Meaning of Commitment in Tony Stark's Dictionary

by emeraldine087



Series: Tony Stark's Dictionary 'verse (aka "Abstinence 'verse") [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Steve Rogers, Bottom Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, But Not Quite Cheating, Cheating, Dorks in Love, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Hints of IronFrost, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, Insecurity, Jealousy, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Has Issues, Love Wins, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pepper Potts Is a Good Bro, Rhodey Is a Good Bro, Rimming, Sexual Fantasy, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Has Issues, They're just like mating gorillas all the damn time really, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Top Steve Rogers, Top Tony Stark, self-sacrificing idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-23 07:13:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9645818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldine087/pseuds/emeraldine087
Summary: Tony Stark and Steve Rogers' relationship is going strong. Tony has overcome his Lothario tendencies and Steve is finding new confidence not only in himself but in their fledgling commitment to each other. They're as close and as in love as can be. And their sex life is so explosively hot, they put porn stars to shame. All is well.But not for long as someone moves in to their apartment building for a protracted visit to their sister-in-law. Jane Foster-Odinson has just given birth to their eldest and the Odinson family flies in for a visit: Thor's dad, mom and adoptive brother, Loki Laufeyson-Odinson are all accounted for. And the latter's arrival spells trouble in the Steve-Tony paradise.Steve is not jealous of Loki nor is he insecure that Tony might suddenly lose interest in him to return to his old ways. Tony is not affected by Loki's allure (not in the slightest) nor is he insecure that, in the grand scheme of things, there will always be one thing he cannot give Steve:a family.Is Steve and Tony's relationship one that is doomed to fail after all? Or will their love be able to hurdle this as just another trivial challenge?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In the spirit of the coming Valentine's Day, I hereby present you with the next installment in the "Abstinence" 'verse. There was a bit of clamor for a peek in the happy relationship that is Steve and Tony's and I realized that there is more to this story after all. As I thoroughly enjoyed working on the first one, I decided that "fuck it, I'm gonna write a sequel whether there's clamor for it or not!"
> 
> However, thanks go to **Briz** for always cheer-reading me in all my current WIPs and for really feeding the fire that is this sequel so much, that it was a breeze writing the first chapter to this, my fingers were flying over my laptop keyboard.
> 
> Please note that very few will make sense in this story unless you've read it's prequel, [Abstinence is Not in Tony Stark's Dic(k)tionary](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8636674/chapters/19806013), because that story will explain the backstory as well as any latent insecurities they may have in their relationship which is already pretty much established as far as the sequel goes. To understand the references that, no doubt, the sequel will have. **PLEASE READ THE PREQUEL FIRST**.
> 
> There will be additional notes in every chapter as we go along.
> 
> I am not promising any regular update schedules for this one but my priorities stand, like so: (1) [LOVE OF OURS](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7608316/chapters/17316379); (2) This story; and lastly (3) [IF WE'RE ANY MORE COMPLICATED...](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9594299/chapters/21684101). That said, I'll see if I cannot manage at least an update every other week or every month.
> 
> Again, Happy Heart's Day in advance to y'all and I hope you enjoy this!
> 
> PS Comments and Kudos are, as always, welcome!  
> \---

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Steve and Tony's 6th monthsary. And they begin the festivities with a bang!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Features an explicit scene with Bottom!Steve (and on the first chapter, too!)
> 
> Comments and Kudos y'all, a'ight?  
> \---

Steve Rogers took a hearty bite out of his deep-dish bacon cheeseburger pizza slice while checking his phone for any messages from Tony Stark, Steve’s boyfriend of six months as of—well— _today_ actually.

Today marked the sixth month of Steve and Tony’s relationship, and Steve couldn’t be happier with it. It wasn’t perfect, true, what with the occasional silent treatments with screaming matches in between because of miscommunication, infrequent inattention, stubbornness on both their parts, difference of opinions and principles, irritating quirks and their personal need to be right all the time, but at the very least, it was _interesting_.

For the most part, Tony, who used to be like a modern-day Casanova, was a changed man. He still flirted a lot, but Steve was confident that the flirting was more for show than any real indication that he was back to his old ways. Steve, for _his_ part, was less introverted and disconnected to the world and more involved, not only in keeping his man from straying, but also in his relationships with his friends, his colleagues at work and extra-curricular activities that, funny enough, seldom included an Xbox console and controllers these days.

And there was the _sex_ and intimacy part, of course. _Oh yeah_ , Steve had no complaints whatsoever about the sex. Tony was the type to always make it fresh and not merely part of an obligation but something truly enjoyable and exciting. Steve knew that he was less reserved and conservative about sex now than he was six months ago, largely because of Tony’s doing.

Since today was their sixth monthsary, Steve couldn’t help but inwardly shiver in anticipation of what Tony might have planned for them. Last month, it was a cruise to Acapulco, Mexico on Tony’s M75 Global Explorer luxury yacht, which he had fondly baptized _The Nomad_. They’d made love under the stars on the yacht’s deck until they were both spent and satiated. _That_ was a great celebration. And Steve knew Tony well enough by now to know that the latter would want to keep outdoing himself when it came to celebrating their relationship.

Because Steve believed that Tony treated every month they were together as a personal milestone in his newfound resolve to give love and long-term commitment a chance.

Steve couldn’t help the beginnings of a buzz in his stomach due to the promise that the day held, especially considering just last night’s conversation with Tony over dinner.

“How do you feel about roleplaying?” Tony had asked, out of the blue. They were having dinner—takeaway from their favorite Chinese place—over at Steve’s apartment. They were getting used to taking their meals together. Sometimes it was breakfast, but most often, it was dinner—just like when Tony’s Celibacy Challenge was ongoing.

And after dinner, Tony would sometimes slink off back to his apartment across the hall from Steve or, oftentimes, stay over to sleep with Steve. Tony had decided to reacquire the 5th floor Walker Street-building apartment after the two had declared their mutual feelings for each other, and the rest of the tenants were only too happy to welcome the engineer-businessman back in their fold.

The issue of the apartment building’s thin walls that sparked the legendary thirty-day Celibacy Challenge had never come up again.

“What—you mean like _cosplay_?” Steve asked, his forkful of noodles suspended halfway to his mouth.

“No,” replied Tony with purse of his lips. “You know how when a couple needs to spice up their sex life, they pretend that they don’t know each other and they assume different roles to be able to act out on their fantasies?” Tony clarified, big brown eyes widening as if willing Steve to understand and see things his way.

Steve snorted and continued to eat. “Tony, it’s not as if we need any more spicing up in our sex life. We can put _mating gorillas_ to shame with how often, loud and frenzied we do it,” he pointed out with a raise of an eyebrow and a smirk. “We make love more often than we _eat_ at this point.”

“You can never have a sex life that’s spiced-up enough. There’s always room for improvement as they always say,” reasoned Tony with a lascivious grin. “So, care to tell me some of your fantasies, soldier?”

Steve shook his head with a half-amused smile. “I’m not telling you my—what—my _fantasies_. I’m keeping those for myself,” countered Steve, teasingly. He focused on wolfing down his food and chewing instead of paying attention to the heat snaking down to his nether regions while thinking about his sexual fantasies.

“If you don’t tell me about them, honey, how will I know how best to pleasure you?” Tony asked, leaning forward and planting his elbows on the edge of the dining table. He made a show of biting his lower lip in a coy fashion. “Do you, perhaps, fantasize about having a complete stranger—like the pizza delivery guy, for example—blow you or rim you while bent over the back of the couch?”

Clean-up after dinner was a hazy affair following _that_ conversation.

And the delivery of his lunch earlier today was just plain awkward. The pizza delivery guy kept looking at Steve funny; he supposed it was because of the suspicious air about him and the fact that he was trying to avoid all forms of skin-on-skin contact while the pizza and money exchanged hands.

After Steve finished eating, he deposited the rest of the pizza in the fridge in case Tony wanted some. His boyfriend was always in the habit of rooting around his fridge for snacks whenever he hung out at Steve’s place. He moved to the sink to wash his hands only to find his faucet broken. Only drips were coming out of the nozzle and none of the usual water pressure.

“What?” Steve asked himself in dismay. He wasn’t that out of it to have broken the faucet when they were washing up in a hurry last night…

Oh well, he supposed it was just a tough break. He ought to get it fixed before any serious monthsary celebrations broke out or they could be gone for the next couple of days and it’d just completely slip his mind that his damn kitchen faucet was broken. Steve got his makeshift tool kit from the hanging cabinet beside the microwave and set out to work on the problem.

Half an hour later, with his shirt wet and his patience running out, Steve gave up the kitchen faucet as a lost cause and strode towards the side table where he last saw his mobile phone. He grabbed the phone and dialed Phil Coulson, the building super’s number.

“Hey Phil! I’d like to report my broken kitchen faucet. I’ve been trying to fix it but it refuses to cooperate with me,” reported Steve. “Maybe you can call our usual plumbing service to have them check it out?”

“Sure thing, Steve,” assured Phil. “What about Tony? Can’t he fix it himself?”

“Oh he’s stuck in a meeting until God-knows-what-time. Besides, it’s our sixth monthsary today. He probably won’t have the time to deal with the problem himself,” reasoned Steve. “I hate to have to ask this to be dealt with by a service provider, but—“ Apology was writ clear in Steve’s voice before Phil interrupted him.

“—oh don’t worry about it, Steve,” Phil said. “Sixth monthsary, huh? Congratulations!” The building super greeted before going back to business: “I’ll inform our usual service provider of the issue. You will probably have someone there to deal with the problem within the hour. Their usual rates will apply. You still remember them?”

“Yep,” Steve answered, grateful. “Thanks for the help, Phil!”

“No worries. Happy 6th then! Catch you guys later and give my regards to Tony,” came Phil’s parting salutations.

Less than thirty minutes later and just as Steve was stepping out of the shower, evenly-spaced knocks filled the silence of his apartment unit. He rushed to open the door with a fluffy towel wrapped around his narrow hips. He resolved to throw something on after he’d explained to the plumber what the problem was.

When he opened the door, he was surprised to find that it wasn’t their usual plumber. The guy was dressed in the usual work coveralls and work boots. But instead of the pot-bellied, bald guy who had, once or twice, got Steve out of some tougher plumbing scrapes, this one was younger, more fit and—God almighty—kind of _attractive_ in a bad boy-take no prisoners look. He seemed to belong between the pages of GQ Magazine more than the working class.

These weren’t great thoughts for someone who was supposedly taken and in a happy relationship… God, what _was_ happening to him?!

“Are…you the plumber?” Steve stammered, clenching his hand that was wrapped around the knot of his bath towel.

The man’s smoldering eyes roamed over his bare torso, gave Steve the once-over from top to bottom. The blonde actually felt hot underneath the damn bath towel because of that scrutiny. Perhaps he _should_ have put something on after all. He didn’t like the way the man looked him over; he didn’t like the way his bare skin tingled because of how the man had stared at him.

“Yeah.” Dammit—even the man’s voice sounded sinful. “Care to show me where the problem is?” The hot plumber asked, cocking his head to the side and stealing a peek at the inside of the apartment unit.

“Ah yeah—right this way then,” Steve said, his voice nearly breaking. He stepped aside to usher the man in. “Got a name?” He followed-up, turning his head a bit to check if the man was following him and if he was checking out the definition of his ass in the bath towel at all.

“I’m Bob,” Mr. Plumber introduced himself, flashing a laminated card quickly by way of identification, even though Steve barely got to take a look at it. Oh well, Steve supposed he should just trust Phil. If this guy did anything unsavory like rob him or be an annoying asshole during this repair job, Steve would make sure that Phil and Tony would hear about it. “And you’re 5A, unless you got a name that’s better than that… I suppose I could just call you _Hot Stuff_.”

“I’m _Steve_ ,” he introduced himself, fighting down the urge to blush because of the sneaky compliment. “So, are you new to the repair company?” He continued with the interrogation once they’d set foot in the kitchen where the offending, non-cooperative faucet was. Bob must be new. Because if he’d ever been around the apartment building before, Steve would’ve _definitely_ remembered him.

“Fairly new,” Bob answered, striding towards the sink and divesting himself of his compact tool kit in a belt bag slung around his hips. “This is my first pipe job. Mostly I’ve been doing electrical. This is it, right?” He asked, gesturing towards the kitchen faucet.

“That’s it,” confirmed Steve. “Listen, I’ll just throw something more decent on, and then I can come back to tell you what’s wrong with it and, maybe, assist you with the repair.”

“ _Or_ you can quickly tell me what’s wrong with it _now_ so I can do my job,” countered Bob. “The underside of your sink is not even flooded; I doubt this’ll take me more than just a couple of minutes, max—then I can get out of your hair,” the guy assessed, bending over and taking a peek under the sink where all the plumbing was.

Steve felt his face cloud over when he noticed himself checking out how nice that ass looked in the coveralls. What the hell was _wrong_ with him?!

“Well, there’s water running in the mains with the usual pressure, but the faucet only has trickles of water,” Steve relayed, curiosity calling to him to see how Bob was going to resolve the problem that he strode over to stand by the sink with a hip propped against the counter.

“How’s the water pressure in your bathroom?” Bob asked, his voice changed by the acoustics of the sink’s underside.

“The usual,” answered Steve, letting his curiosity get the better of him and actually bending over to see how Bob was handling the problem down there. “What’s your assessment?”

“It could just be a clog in your aerator or a blocked extendable hose connecting the mains to the faucet,” explained Bob very lucidly. “Has this faucet head been replaced recently?” He asked, getting his head out from underneath the sink cabinet and looking up at Steve, momentarily stealing a glance at Steve’s crotch that was fairly noticeable even hidden behind a fluffy towel.

“Yeah, um—my boyfriend replaced it just two months ago, I think,” Steve replied, wanting to emphasize to Bob that his eyes had no business roaming Steve’s body because the latter was already in a committed relationship.

“Your _boyfriend_ , huh?” Bob aid, returning to the bowels of the kitchen sink cabinet. “He also likes to tinker around the house?”

“Sure.”

“Why didn’t he take care of this problem himself then?”

“He’s currently tied up in a meeting,” Steve answered. This was not inappropriate, was it? They were only making small talk. It wasn’t getting too personal, he tried to convince himself.

“He’s an idiot. Why waste his time in a meeting when he could be tying _you_ up and having his wicked way with you instead?” Bob remarked with a dismayed ‘tsk’. “I know _I_ would.”

O—kaay, _that_ one was glaringly inappropriate. Steve felt like he shouldn’t be getting turned on by that, but, by God, he was. Clearing his throat to hide his discomfort, he segued, “you think you can fix this then?”

Bob tinkered a bit more, whistling to himself before getting his upper body out from under the sink again. He shifted his weight to the other knee and wiped his hands against the legs of his coveralls. “I already have. You want to try it out?” The plumber started stowing his hand tools back in his belt bag tool kit with a self-assured smirk at his customer.

“What—you’re done already?” Steve asked, incredulous. He leaned towards the kitchen sink, reaching for the faucet, and turned the knob on. He marveled at the water that gushed out of the nozzle like the thing had never been broken. “Wow…”

It was then that he felt a warm hand seizing the knot of his fluffy towel and another cupping his cock through the fabric. “What the fuck are you doing?” Steve jumped and moved out of Bob’s reach.

“I’m not done yet,” Bob said in a gravelly voice. “I haven’t done _you_ yet, Hot Stuff. What do you say to some extra service? Don’t worry, you can have this one on the house,” invited Bob with a smirk, the attractiveness of which he must have been aware of, otherwise he wouldn’t have employed it on his client.

“I have a _boyfriend_ , you asshole! And he will definitely hear about this,” Steve threatened, hugging his bare arms close to his bare torso. He definitely knew he was too underdressed for this shit!

“By all means, tell your boyfriend. Will he be amenable to a threesome, you think?” Bob smiled predatorily. And before Steve was aware of what was happening, Bob, the plumber had slid in front of Steve, on his knees, quick as lightning, had yanked off the only piece of clothing protecting Steve’s decency, and had had Steve’s dick in the cavern of his hot, wet mouth.

“Oh my God,” Steve moaned breathlessly. He could take this guy mano-a-mano, kick his ass until next Wednesday. No one was supposed to touch him so intimately like this but his gorgeous and sexy boyfriend. But that talented mouth and tongue seemed to suck all of Steve’s thoughts out through his dick as all the blood in his body flowed south. He was hard in a little under two minutes. “St—stop, stop… You have to stop…”

“Your mouth says that but your body is saying something completely different. Which am I supposed to listen to?” The plumber murmured, mouthing Steve’s sac and, at the same time, stroking his shaft with a calloused hand and deft and equally talented fingers.

“I can’t be doing this,” Steve moaned desperately, tangling his hands in the plumber’s dark head of hair with every intention of pushing that head off his crotch but what happened was he started fucking that mouth instead.

Bob tore his mouth from Steve’s cock and slid up the blonde’s body, laving his pelvis, abdomen, nipples, collar and neck with a brilliantly gifted tongue. All the while a hand worked Steve to keep his cock in attention. The plumber bit on an earlobe before whispering, “does your boyfriend like rimming you?”

If it was possible, Steve got even more worked up at the mention of ‘rimming’. This was every shade of wrong. To be feeling this turned on.

In truth, Tony didn’t get up to rimming Steve that often. It wasn’t because Tony didn’t enjoy it, but because Steve was embarrassed by it. He’d thought it unnatural and awkward considering what the anus was meant for. Also, he felt weirded out by how…fucking good it actually felt, _so good_ that he keened and moaned and positively howled during the rare occasions that he let Tony do it to him.

He always had trouble looking Clint—who lived in the apartment one floor down with his wife, Laura—in the eye after those rimming episodes. It eerily felt as if the whole damn apartment knew what they’d gotten up to.

He could only give shuddering gasps in answer to the hanging question; it was humiliating.

“Do _you_ like it when he does?” The plumber breathlessly asked against Steve’s ear again. That time, he felt a calloused finger graze the leaking slit of his cock that sent tingles blossoming from his groin, up his torso to the base of his neck. The plumber’s other hand busied itself with tweaking the slowly-becoming-sensitive nub that was Steve’s nipple. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” Steve moaned desperately, biting his lower lip both in pleasure and shame.

It was then that Bob fell to his knees again and took to taking Steve’s dick in his mouth anew. Steve felt the tightness of throat squeezing the head of his cock and he almost blacked out then and there because of the sensation. The man was deep-throating him, and he was damn _amazing_ at it. “Holy sh—sh… Oh T—turd—you’re a…fucking _turd_ …” To which, the plumber’s reaction was a deep, throaty chuckle that sent another layer of sensation through Steve’s oversensitive dick.

“Get—get off, stop. Get off…” Steve said breathily, near-pleading. He meant to push this…this pervert off of him, too. But what he’d ended up doing was to thrust in the wet heat of the man’s mouth instead—dammit!

The plumber sputtered Steve’s member out of his mouth with a throaty lurid pop. “Don’t worry, Hot Stuff. _You_ will,” he promised. Without forewarning, Steve was pushed on the flat of his back on the kitchen table as arms, lean but sinewy with muscles, held his knees up and wide to expose the tight pucker of his hole. When the insistent and scorching tip of a tongue breached the tight ring of muscle guarding his channel, his arms flew to the edges of the table on either side of him to grip at the wood, hard; the toes on his raised feet curled towards his soles; a cross between a gasp and a swallow threatened to choke him; and fingers of electricity crawled up and down his body turning his skin into gooseflesh.

This was why he didn’t particularly enjoy rimming. Because he enjoyed it a tad too much.

“Oh, oh, oh G—god, God…” Steve whispered like a damn prayer as the tongue plundered his hole, laved over the ring of muscle, slithered in and out of him over and over, without mercy. “Hmmm, ah, oh G—god….”

By the time that a vigorous hand started pumping his shaft to join the barrage of sensations, Steve was nearly in tears. How could a rim job have reduced him to this thoughtless, slobbering, sexually-depraved mess so quickly? More importantly, if _Tony_ found out about this—

Above the din of Steve’s repressed cries of pleasure, he heard the unmistakable tearing of a foil wrapper, and he opened the blue eyes that had shut themselves tightly due to the flood of stimuli. The plumber had retrieved a condom from the back pocket of his coveralls and was sheathing himself in the rubber for what was undeniably act two: it was really happening; Steve was really going to let a complete stranger fuck him.

“You’re keeping…a condom…in the back pocket…of your coveralls?” The damn asshole had planned on doing this?!

“I used to be a boy scout. That’s why I’m always prepared,” the asshole answered cheekily with eyes blown wide and dark with lust and want.

Steve’s eyes flew shut again at the first instance of intrusion through the tight ring of muscle in his ass. How had the asshole gotten so hard without Steve touching him? But God, that careful venture into his channel was deliciously excruciating, all right. And pretty soon, the plumber was fully sheathed in Steve and bent over him, sucking a hickey on his collar.

Shit! Tony was sure to notice that! Tony always noticed everything. But Steve didn’t have the fortitude to push the greedy mouth off of him anymore. He just wrapped his legs around the other man’s hips and drew the latter in so that every inside thrust was deeper, harder, hungrier.

The table quaked on its legs with every furious thrust; moans, pants and gasps filled the kitchen; the air also started to become heavy with the smell of sex and heavily aroused bodies. Steve was teetering on the edge of what promised to be a powerful orgasm when the inundation of thrusts eased up a bit.

“Is that your _dog_?”

Steve lifted his back a bit off the table and craned his neck to look towards the kitchen floor. His dog, Captain—a brown-eyed, adorable four-year-old beagle, sauntered into the kitchen, went to where his water bowl was tucked, and started slurping some water, unfazed and unmindful of the festivities unfolding atop the kitchen table, and the defilement of his human by a complete stranger.

“Y—yeah…” Steve answered breathily, nudging his ass a bit to give the other a hint that they were kind of in the middle of something.

“Cute dog,” the plumber observed, pulling out his cock from Steve’s body only to slam it right back in, hitting his prostate dead-on. Steve felt his eyes roll to the back of his head in ecstasy.

It was when Steve’s ass was practically hanging off the edge of the table, and a vigorous hand other than his was pumping his cock, and fingers were twisting on a nipple in a hazy mix of mind-numbing pleasure and pain that the blonde found himself coming so explosively all over his own abdomen. Not a few more thrusts later and the man who had fucked him into the table was also pulling out and shooting ropes of semen on Steve’s stomach after having torn the condom off.

A beat, which they used to try to collect themselves, and Steve was speaking, “your payment’s on the console table by the entrance.”

“Glad to be of service, Hot Stuff. Hey, maybe next time it’s something in your _bedroom_ that’ll need fixing,” the plumber joked with another one of them teasing and sexy smirks he had already obviously perfected.

Was there really gonna be a next time?

Steve laughed in spite of himself, scooted aside, still boneless, on the kitchen table, and pillowed his head with an arm. “You really think there’ll be a next time?”

“I do,” the plumber said, collapsing atop the kitchen table beside Steve, but not before stealing a long languid kiss from the blonde’s lips. “Happy 6th monthsary, Hot Stuff…”

“Let me guess, you rigged my faucet so that it’ll need fixing and you conspired with Phil to give you a call once I’ve given up on trying to fix it myself and called for professional help,” Steve conjectured, turning to face his adorably sexy boyfriend-cum-plumber who had decided to surprise him with a little roleplaying fun.

For of course, it _was_ Tony. Like Steve was really going to let someone else touch him like that or fuck him into his kitchen table. In Steve’s eyes, no one was hotter or more attractive or sexier than the first man he had ever been in a relationship with.

“You know me so well already, it’s scary,” Bob-aka-Tony leaned towards Steve again for another soft peck on the lips. “I didn’t think you’d actually go along with it. And the Oscar goes to… Cue the trumpets and violins,” teased Tony, exhaling forcefully to expel any more breathlessness.

“What made you even think that engaging in mildly non-consensual sex with a complete stranger atop the kitchen table is a sexual fantasy of mine?” Steve asked with a disbelieving air, nosing Tony at the juncture where neck met shoulder.

“What makes _you_ think I was trying to act out a sexual fantasy _of yours_? Let me tell you that _this_ is actually a sexual fantasy of _mine_. To take you under mildly non-consensual circumstances, with a little bit of resistance and urgency—not a bit of danger to it because it was, after all, just a _stolen moment_ ,” remarked Tony, lacing his fingers with Steve’s on the latter’s chest.

“I do have one question, though,” Tony said, propping himself on an elbow to be able to stare directly into Steve’s eyes. “Turd… I mean—really? _Turd_? You couldn’t have thought of another— _sexier_ —term than _turd_ to call me while I had your dick down my throat?” He tweaked Steve’s nose fondly before peppering kisses on his lover’s jaw.

“I had to cover my slip of the tongue. I nearly called you by your name. Somehow, I didn’t think calling you by your name would lend a lot of magic to the illusion we were trying to maintain,” reasoned Steve with a hint of embarrassment, craning his neck to give his boyfriend more access to his neck. He loved it when Tony gave him butterfly kisses on his neck. It must be the Van Dyke. “And _besides_ , I doubt you could’ve thought of a better save if it had been _your_ boyfriend’s talented mouth animatedly deep-throating you.”

“Ooooh, _yes please_!” Tony practically tittered at that, biting on the alabaster skin of his boyfriend’s neck.

“My mouth will never be as talented as yours, though,” Steve lamented, raking a hand through Tony’s dark mahogany-colored locks and cocked his head to meet the latter’s eyes. “And don’t tell me, but is coming on my abs part of your sexual fantasy, too? I was a bit surprised when you did that. You’ve never pulled out before orgasm before.”

“It was all part of the pervy plumber act. And yeah, I guess you can say that it’s part of my sexual fantasy to leave a mark on you or something,” Tony remarked, inching ever closer to Steve and tucking his chin against the blonde’s shoulder.

“You’ve already left countless, more indelible marks on me, though,” countered Steve, unabashedly staring into his lover’s big, beautiful eyes.

Tony surged forward and up to capture Steve’s lips with his own in another deep but gentle kiss. “You are so _cheesy_ , you know that?” Tony commented. To which, Steve’s reply was a hearty laugh.

“I’ve got another comment,” segued Tony anew, turning uncharacteristically serious all of a sudden. “Should I be worried about _Captain_? I mean, he just sauntered in, bold as brass, didn’t even bark or growl—not even once, I mean _what if_ you were really getting molested by a pervy asshole…”

“Well, ‘cause it’s _you_ , isn’t it? He didn’t bark or anything because it was you. He’s used to you—you’re always here anyway,” Steve defended his dog. “And if I were really getting sexually attacked by someone, you would think, as a _soldier_ , I’d at least be able to fend it off and defend myself… Give me a little more credit than that, Stark,” huffed the blonde with an imperial raise of a dark blonde eyebrow. “If I didn’t want _Bob’s_ paws anywhere near me, I’d have torn his arms off his shoulders. But as it is, he _was_ kinda gorgeous—looks a lot like my boyfriend and everything…” It was Steve’s turn to smirk.

Tony surged forward again and whispered against Steve’s lips, “happy monthsary. I love you.”

“And I love you,” replied Steve before peeling his back off the kitchen table and sitting up. He bent down to pick his towel off the floor and slung it over his shoulder, turning to watch the brunette follow suit.

Ignoring the coveralls and the various debris of their roleplay on the kitchen floor, Tony strode towards Steve’s bedroom in all his naked glory, calling behind his back, “Rhodey’s back stateside again, by the way.”

Rhodey or Lt. Col. James Rhodes of the US Air Force was Tony’s best and oldest friend, and Steve’s long-time idol ever since his US Army days.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, he’s asked if he could meet us for a quick coffee at three later,” Tony hollered from the bedroom. “I told him he had shitty timing because we’re supposed to be celebrating.”

“He’s been gone for nearly five months. You should’ve played nice, Tony,” chastised Steve, entering the bedroom and heading straight to the en suite bath. Tony was still mulling over the sartorial options that Steve’s closet provided him with. Tony’s clothing options were already substantial considering that this wasn’t even his house.

“I did. I told him we’d meet up with him. That’s me being nice,” Tony clarified defensively against Steve’s censuring stare.

The censure didn’t last long, however, when Steve realized the import of the new information. He’s been after introducing Rhodey to someone for the longest time now, but he hadn’t had the chance since Tony’s best friend got detailed for an indefinite period in the Middle East for some training oversight job. But now that Rhodey was back—

“Go text him, see if he’s free to meet up with us also,” Tony told him as if reading his mind. It looked like he’s settled on what top to wear, too. “I’m gonna get a kick out of watching his reaction once we introduce him to Rhodey…” Tony chortled right then.  

“You just read my mind,” Steve marveled, grinning at his boyfriend.

“Knowing your mind is _my_ business, Hot Stuff.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys continue to celebrate their sixth monthsary with some welcome news and a baby!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY, the next installment to the the sequel which is a long time coming, I know (a whole effing year to be precise). I'm having some creativity issues of late and my new job is surprisingly hectic but the new challenges are welcome developments!
> 
> As always, Comments and Kudos are very welcome! Do let me know if you spot SPaG issues and plot inconsistencies. I wish to keep reminding you to read the prequel to this as most of the plot and characterization depend on the events of the prequel. ^_^
> 
> Oh and you will find that I snuck in a character here only because Jude Law is going to portray him in the coming Captain Marvel movie and I can't resist a little RDJude in my mind...
> 
> Again, as with everything else I write, ENJOY!!!  
> \---

Tony tittered under his breath, watching Steve’s best friend James ‘Bucky’ Barnes shift agitatedly on the seat perpendicular to his and across from Steve’s. They were squished together in a booth on the north side of the café, farthest from, but with a very good view of, the entrance. Tony couldn’t help but be excited himself, anticipating just how star-struck Bucky would be once he was introduced to Rhodey, whom Steve and Bucky practically worshipped, idolized and web-stalked if Tony’s memory of Steve’s almost shy confession way, way back was anything to go by.

“What exactly am I doing here? What kind of a _sadistic prank_ is this—making me sit-in on your monthsary date, as if I don’t get enough of your giving each other the damn sexy eyes whenever you’re within eight feet of one another?” Bucky grumbled, unmistakably bad-tempered, so much so that he petulantly cocked his head and crossed his meaty arms over his chest.

“Oh you know, we thought we could spice things up a little bit,” Tony bantered back with a casual shrug and a playful purse of his lips. Any minute now, Air Force rockstar Rhodey was going to walk in through the restaurant’s double doors and Bucky would forget ever having been bad-tempered at all. He was still internally debating whether he needed to whip out his camera phone as early as now to capture the moment that he would forever hold as blackmail material against his boyfriend’s best friend.

“Even if a threesome’s my thing, dudes don’t quite do it for me, Stark,” Bucky mumbled with his Brooklyn brogue and a roll of his stormy gray eyes.

It was then that Tony caught sight of _his_ best friend’s imposing figure making his way inside the restaurant and, fighting down a toothy grin, said, “oh I know of at least _one dude_ that’s an exception to that rule, Buckaroo.

“Hey babe—is that someone famous? Some actor or something?” Tony loudly asked Steve, changing the subject all of a sudden and nodding towards the restaurant’s entrance where Rhodey was already steadily making his way towards their table, no doubt having spotted Tony’s manic figure or Steve’s ridiculously broad shoulders. Steve dutifully turned and, catching sight of Rhodey as well, fought down the quirking of the corners of his lips.

Bucky, for his part, also turned towards the same direction, probably expecting himself to give a mere cursory glance towards the supposedly famous person, when who should he find but no less than his and Steve’s long-time idol himself?! Bucky gave a perceptible start and his jaw went slack with shock. “Is that—is—is—holy ssshh… _Stevie_! Oh my G—uh…” Bucky stammered quite unintelligibly.

Tony, snickering and whipping out his phone, took advantage of the moment by stealthily taking a snapshot of Bucky’s absolutely starstruck expression. Schooling his face into a less shit-eating look seconds later, Tony welcomed Rhodey to their table with a firm handshake and an equally warm half-hug. “Mama Bear!” Tony just couldn’t resist calling Rhodey by one of his many Tony Stark-bestowed monikers. It _was_ damn good to see his best friend even though the man had shit timing, asking to meet with them today, of all days, when Tony should’ve already been wrapping himself in, on and around his scorching-hot boyfriend on the occasion of their sixth monthsary. Instead Tony was there… But seeing Rhodey’s confusion at Bucky’s ogling but adoring face _and_ getting to see his hale-and-hearty best friend after a couple of tours spent abroad for the past five months were definitely worth the pause in their day’s revels.

“By the way, I hope you don’t mind Steve’s best friend, Bucky, joining us?” Tony introduced, motioning towards the still-quite-mute Bucky. “I think it’s hardly an exaggeration when I say that he’s a _big fan_ o’ yours,” he described with a chuckle and a wiggle of his eyebrows. “He’ll be with us shortly, too—soon as he can manage to string two words together after he’s had a good gawk. Right Buck?”

The otherwise cool-as-a-cucumber Bucky Barnes managed a sound that was a cross between a whimper and a growl and a surreptitious glance towards Steve that seemed to say _‘Jesus Christ, Stevie, are you seeing this? I can’t believe I’m really being a complete dork in front of Lt. Col. James Rhodes! Give me a brisk kick in the nuts—quick—to snap me out of it!’_

“It’s great to see you back, Rhodey,” Steve greeted the newcomer with a fond pat on the bicep and a warm smile. “When I heard from Tony that you were back, I just couldn’t resist inviting Bucky over here to meet you,” the blonde continued like the great wingman that he was, buying Bucky more time to collect himself beyond the shock.

“It _is_ great to be back home, Steve. Nothing to it—it’s _my_ pleasure to be introduced to your best friend,” Rhodey gamely replied, heartily patting Bucky’s shoulder before taking the last vacant seat across from Tony. “Oh and I know you guys could’ve easily told me to take a hike instead of meeting me today—what with it being your monthsary and all, that I’m sure this dork had had big plans for,” he said, motioning towards Tony, which the latter only rolled his eyes to. “But you’re here instead, humoring an old airman—so yeah, thanks for this.” He nodded once with a tight-lipped smile that didn’t, at all, take anything away from how fond he was of both Tony and Steve.

“Anything for you, Sour Patch. Besides, it was high time for one of Steve’s besties to meet my bestie—this would be, like, the closest that we can get _to ‘Meeting the Parents’_ , you know. So how’s your trip?” Tony asked, leaning towards Rhodey, his brown eyes gleaming with genuine interest at what his best friend had mostly got up to while he was away.

It was also the best way he could think of to get Bucky in on the conversation, which he found himself quite invested in because he wasn’t lying when he said this was the closest thing that he and Steve could get to meeting each other’s family considering that both of them were orphans. It didn’t escape Tony’s notice how passionate he was to get the people he considered the closest thing to family involved in and familiar with Steve and the people that Steve considered his family like never before. There had never been a single conquest, date, acquaintance or lover that Tony’s had that he’d cared to tell Rhodey about in any detail, much less to have Rhodey meet them or any of their friends or family members.

Steve was different.

And Tony knew that from the first. Steve was someone Tony really cared about. That Tony was finding himself caring more and more about as, together, they crossed the monthly milestones in their relationship—a relationship which, if someone had stopped Tony on the street eight months ago to tell him he would one day be a part of, he wouldn’t have believed a single stinking word of it.

Yet here he was. And there Steve sat within arm’s reach, playing innocent footsie with Tony’s calf under the table.

Rhodey began to tell them of his rockstar-y exploits that got both Bucky and Steve enthusiastically participating, asking him questions, eliciting his opinion about one Armed Forces policy or other, until the conversation grew from there into the realm of politics, social awareness in the military—both in the ranks and the brass—post-Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell and the legalization of same-sex marriages in all states.

It delighted Tony to no end to see Bucky mirror Steve’s fondness for Rhodey—Rhodey, the actual, flesh-and-blood person, and not only James Rhodes, the ideal of a rockstar airman. If Tony had been any more sentimental than he secretly was, he would’ve had no qualms about gurgling and cooing his approval at how the four of them were meshing so well together. But he reined himself in, otherwise he knew he wouldn’t hear the end of it from Steve.

“Actually, I badgered you for this get-together to discuss something more important,” Rhodey segued, suddenly becoming serious and nervous. He fidgeted where he sat and shifted his chair closer to the table, squeezing his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger.

It was a nervous tic of Rhodey’s that Tony liked to think only he knew about. It was a tic that Rhodey has damn near patented particularly to show his utmost disapproval of Tony’s misdemeanors. Seeing it now as well as the blossoming unease in his best friend’s demeanor put Tony on alert. He was suddenly thinking if he’d done something crass, distasteful or unacceptable in the past five months that he might need to come clean to Rhodey for. Tony tried to make a mental rundown of his recent behavior that might have pushed Pepper to come running to Rhodey and ratting on him, but he drew a blank. That was another thing he attributed to his relationship with Steve: he was less inclined to make a spectacle or a mess of himself because he had Steve to consider; he had Steve to rush home to and spend quality, free time with that he just refused to make time for anything else, including mischief-making.

God, he was such a disgusting sap! What happened to the bad-ass, unapologetic, take-no-prisoners libertine?!

“Whatever it is and whoever it is that might have told you otherwise, I didn’t do it!” Tony made a blanket denial complete with a gesture of pacification. “I’ve been keeping my head down; I’ve been doing right by—by Steve; I’m keeping my junk in a _cock cage_ and only Steve has the key—“ At this, Steve, red-faced, snappily turned to Tony with a reproachful huff while Bucky snorted with an amused smirk underneath his pursed lips. “—and whatever it was Bruce or Pepper might have told you is nothing but lies and slander, Rhod—“

“—ah-ah, calm down, Tones. Calm down,” assured Rhodey with a twinkle in his eyes. “It’s not that, and I know that you’re trying to do right by Steve that even _Pepper_ is grudgingly impressed,” Rhodey continued with a small smile brimming with pride at Tony’s change of heart, but the nervousness and seriousness remained. “I wanted to talk to you because…”

Tony leaned forward in anticipation, with Steve and even Bucky doing the same thing.

“I’m getting married and I want you to be my Best Man,” Rhodey declared in one breath with a thousand-watt smile at the full stop.

Their table erupted in excited chatter and congratulatory pats, but no one was happier or more excited than Tony, who, even if the logistics of their seating arrangement made it quite difficult, reached for Rhodey to envelop the latter into a hearty and enthusiastic half-hug. “Why didn’t you just lead with that then?! I thought I did something wrong and you were going to give me one of your _Bossman-Officer-is-very-disappointed-in-you_ lectures when the whole time, we could have been chugging down champagne and planning your bachelor party— _oh God!_ Please tell me I get to plan your bachelor party! Please, please, _please_?!” Tony urged, his excitement overflowing that he was abuzz with movement and gestures.

“Yes, Tony, you get to take charge of my bachelor party,” admitted Rhodey with exasperated amusement and a shake of his head. “But being my Best Man is more than just making sure I have enough strippers and booze at the party, you know. It’s a lot of responsibility, especially with Carol being away often because of her trips with the Peace Corps. We need to help Carol’s Honor Attendant finalize the venue, the catering, the place settings… whoa, OK—so there’s a lot involved in planning a wedding…”

Rhodey suddenly paled with the realization that he _was_ getting married to his long-time sweetheart Carol Danvers, and there were a _shit-ton_ of things to do, and he was asking reckless, immature, carefree, happy-go-lucky, _why-do-I-need-to-remember-my-social-security-number-myself-when-I-have-Pepper-for-that_ Tony Stark, of all people, for help planning everything out!

“And don’t you worry about it, Mama Bear! I got this—I got you covered. Your wedding is going to be fan- _fucking_ -tastic. Venue? Threads? Food? You want it done on the deck of the _Burj Khalifa_? You want Gordon Ramsay to cook your six-course wedding reception dinner? You want your tux done by _Versace_ —maybe a _Tiffany & Co._ wedding gown for Carol? Just say the word and it’s done, baby; we’ll go all out,” promised Tony. He was already making plans on the people to call, reservations to make and meetings to set up.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Tones,” reminded Rhodey, looking to Bucky and Steve for their help to rein Tony’s enthusiasm in. “I’d just be happy if you could, maybe, _not_ lose the wedding rings because you got just as wasted as me—if not more—during the stag party,” the airman said, staring Tony down with not a bit of chastisement. “Or do I need to remind you of that shit-fest we went through in Macau in ’09—“

“—why, what happened in Macau in ’09?” It was Bucky who asked, but it was clear on Steve’s face that he was interested to hear about it, too.

“D’you guys know that movie, _The Hangover_? Well, let’s just say that that movie had its basis in fact because we damn well lived it—thanks to this bozo,” Rhodey told Bucky and Steve, cocking his head towards Tony to give him all the props for that Macau incident that had long since passed into legend for Tony and Rhodey’s intimate circle of friends and the employees of Tony’s father’s company, _Stark Enterprises_.

“Hey! I was just a victim—same as you. Don’t make me sound like I’m the incorrigible instigator or these boys just might believe you,” complained Tony, matching it with an apologetic look at Steve. “Don’t believe him, Steve—Steve, Steve, Steve…light of life and fire of my loins. That was the old me—a victim, easily swayed by the influence of my misguided friends, but I’m already a changed man.” Tony said in both his own defense and in supplication.

“Sounds like a hell of a story that I would love to hear the entirety of,” Steve told Rhodey whilst rolling his eyes at Tony.

“Me too,” echoed Bucky, smirking cheekily at Tony’s indignant reaction.

“Thanks a lot, Sour Patch. You’ve turned my homey and my boyfriend against me,” Tony muttered in mock annoyance, and then, changing the subject, asked, “who’s going to be Carol’s Maid of Honor anyway?”

“ _Man_ of Honor. Almost _all_ of the entourage on the bride’s side will be composed of Carol’s Peace Corps and Air Force buddies—all males… except for Jan. Jan’s going to be a bridesmaid. Oh and she’s threatened to bomb a city if we don’t put her in charge of the couture, so _Versace_ and _Tiffany & Co._ are out,” relayed Rhodey.

Janet Van Dyne was one of Tony and Rhodey’s closest friends and business partners, owning part of the night club, _Marvel_. She, Tony, Rhodey and Carol had been friends for some time now. Jan was practically the only woman that Carol was close to as Tony knew for a fact that Rhodey’s future bride worked mostly with men in the Air Force before and, currently, in the Peace Corps.

Their animated conversation was temporarily halted by the delivery of their pre-ordered coffees and pastries when Rhodey remembered that he still hasn’t answered Tony’s last question. “Right—yeah… To answer your question, Carol’s Man of Honor is her long-time friend from the Air Force, Walter Lawson.”

“I don’t think Carol’s introduced us before,” Tony remarked, thoughtful. “But no biggie. It’ll be great to meet a new friend. Just to clear things out though, you don’t need me to start playing Best Man _today_ , do you? Because I kinda have this tall, hot blonde to celebrate a monumental monthsary with, and I plan to rock his world all…night…long.” Tony only had eyes for Steve by then as he made a show of suggestively biting his lower lip and awarding his boyfriend with a smoldering stare. Steve, for his part, blushed and subsequently tried to hide his very telling reaction with a cough.

“Can’t believe your repertoire still includes crass innuendo,” criticized Rhodey with an amused shake of his head. “I haven’t had expensive artisanal coffee in five months, I’d very much like to keep it down my throat instead of sprayed all over the table. Come on, don’t make me throw up in my mouth, Tones…”

“Too late; _I_ just did. These two are the absolute worst,” Bucky complained with a roll of his eyes at the lovebirds in their midst before taking a swill of his own artisanal coffee.

“Tell me about it,” echoed Rhodey with a smirk. “So, Bucky… I’ll see you and your plus one at my wedding, all right?”

The unexpected invitation nearly made Bucky upchuck the mouthful of expensive coffee he’d just swallowed. An invitation to his idol’s wedding was the last thing he was expecting to walk away with that afternoon as his eyes visibly widened to the size of stormy blue dinner plates. Bucky seemed like he was two seconds away from bursting into euphoric tears or seizing Rhodey into a homoerotic embrace that would make even Carol jealous; neither of which was easily explicable to the type of crowd they were presently in the midst of.

“I—I—I…” Bucky stammered, bewildered.

“He accepts with thanks, Rhodey,” Steve interpreted, chortling.

“And I hope you will be able to keep my Best Man in line, Captain Rogers?” Rhodey requested with a wink and a smile through the rim of his coffee cup as he took a sip.

“Count on it, Sir,” Steve replied with a mock salute and a radiant smile.

==========

The sports car bearing Steve and Tony was barely idling on the curb in front of their apartment building when Clint, Wanda and Thor, with his beefy arms supporting the frame of his much smaller and very, very pregnant wife, Jane, stumbled out of the building and into the sidewalk in a panicked furor.

Steve was out of the passenger side of the car in a heartbeat to approach the group and ask what all the commotion was about. The two only intended to stop by their place really quickly to pick up their pre-packed overnight bags and for a change of clothes before they were on their way to wherever it was that Tony had planned to take Steve for their sixth monthsary, but any schedule they were supposed to keep to all went to hell in a handbasket as soon as they laid eyes on their distressed neighbors.

“Jane’s going into labor, and we couldn’t book an Uber,” loudly explained Wanda to an approaching Steve, which Tony’d also caught through the open passenger window of the car.  “We thought we’d take a chance hailing a cab,” she continued hurriedly amidst Jane’s pained groans and whimpers and Clint and Thor’s panicked conversation about hospital bags, Lamaze breathing, pre-labor checklists, checking if Thor remembered to lock their apartment or to turn the stove off, and some such incomprehensible shit.

“Either that or we haul ass using Pietro’s motorcycle scooter,” Clint abruptly segued from his frenzied exchange with Thor to inform the newcomers.

At this, Tony got out of the car but hung back on the open driver’s side door, watching as the group came up to the edge of the curb in a travesty of an eight-legged race. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me with the scooter, right?! So you’re driving the scooter while Thor rides bitch and where do you expect to put the person you’re supposed to be taking to the hospital—clinging to the handlebars?!” Tony looked at Clint with indignant disapproval. He wasn’t exactly the poster boy for responsibility but he’d like to think he wasn’t so reckless as to consider weaving through the streets of midtown during the rush hour in a motorcycle scooter with more than one passenger—one of which was a woman about to pop out a baby!

“Let’s hear your brilliant ideas, Stark,” snarked Clint back, terror and panic mingling on his features as Jane gave another screech of pain. He was probably thinking that with his own wife, Laura being far along in her own pregnancy, this was going to be his scene in a few months.

Tony turned towards Steve’s worried face and made a decision: “Well, I have a perfectly serviceable sports car right here; Steve and I can take Thor and Jane to the hospital.” The offer was barely out of his mouth when the expression on his boyfriend’s façade changed from worry to fondness and pride. Tony knew Steve enough to know that had it been Steve’s car idling on the curb, the blonde would’ve offered to take the Odinson couple to the hospital in a heartbeat. Tony may have made grand plans for his monthsary with Steve but as their neighbors-turned-friends desperately needed their help, Tony didn’t have any qualms to hold the celebration in abeyance. It was what his kind-hearted boyfriend would have done anyway.

This was even more incontrovertible proof of Steve’s positive influence on him, particularly on his maturity. If Pepper were here to witness this, she would have had a coronary due to shock.

“We’ll catch you up, buddy,” Clint assured Thor, not wasting any time in practically manhandling the Odinsons into the cramped backseat of the waiting vehicle.

“We’ll let the others know and we’ll be at the hospital as soon as we can,” echoed Wanda, reaching into the backseat to give the squirming mommy-to-be’s hand a comforting squeeze.

“Can you please check if I unplugged the dishwasher, Clint? And I think I left the shoe cabinet open! And I think I had Jane’s fern sunning in the kitchen window! Oh and the milk in the fridge will go bad in a couple days—“ Thor was still yelling any last-minute reminders, poking his head out of the car window.

“—our baby’s about to pop out and you’re thinking about the curdling milk in the damn fridge?!” Jane shrieked; she’s clearly had enough. “shut up, honey. Tony—fucking drive us outta here already!”

Steve had barely slammed his car door closed when Tony peeled off the curb with a screech of the car’s tires.

They were right in the thick of hurtling through two short intersections, beating the red light in both traffic lights at breakneck speed that would’ve otherwise earned them a booklet of traffic violation tickets, when Jane gave a bloodcurdling scream echoed by her husband, whom she had in a death grip, that got both Tony and Steve yelling at the top of their lungs also.

After they’ve all lost their breaths screaming, Jane whined, “you’re doing the child-bearing next time, _Thor Donald Odinson_ , because I’m never doing this again!”

If they weren’t in a critical situation with the very real prospect of getting blood and unspeakable fluids smeared all over Tony’s French leather car upholstery, he would’ve teased Thor endlessly. But as he had a murderous woman in labor screaming her lungs out in the backseat, Tony limited his teasing and said, “you’re not naming your child after you, are you—because really, _Donald_ is kind of lame—”

“Not a good time, Tony,” warned Steve through gritted teeth. He was sitting sideways on the front passenger seat because his right hand was enclosed in one of Jane’s hands while her other hand held a fistful of her husband’s shirt.

For a short while, the car was filled with reassuring coos from Thor, instructions to keep breathing from Steve, fierce Lamaze breathing from Jane and hisses from Tony as he maneuvered the car through the hellish traffic that was midtown during rush hour. He was tempted to roll down his window and scream, “we have a pregnant woman about to pop here—get a move on, you fuckers!” As it was, keeping the car in one piece while streaking through crowded streets demanded his full attention.

It was when they were three blocks away from the nearest hospital that Tony heard the unmistakable sound of tearing fabric as Thor’s shirt finally gave up the fight against a hysterical woman in the throes of labor. “We’re almost there, sweetheart,” Thor said, soothingly, wriggling out of his shirt and going bare-chested.

Tony had to hand it to the man. He had nothing to be ashamed of with those rippling pecs and abs and melon-sized biceps. Had they both been single—

Jane let loose another ear-piercing shriek that shattered into Tony’s introspection, making him completely forget about the direction his thoughts were going.

“You said that _three_ blocks ago! I can’t do this anymore—pull over!” Jane commanded, surging forward and practically seizing Tony by the scruff of his shirt, nearly strangling him. “This baby is coming right now!”

“ _Absolutely not, woman_! You are not delivering that baby in my two-hundred-thousand-dollar, custom-made _Audi R8 Spyder_ and making a mess of my French leather interior, no Sir—certainly not on my sixth monthsary, holding my boyfriend’s hand while parked in the curb of East 38th Street! I’m getting you to the hospital, or so help me…” Tony viciously protested, narrowing his eyes into focused slits, clenching his jaw and squeezing the steering wheel tightly as he kept on negotiating the roads, pedal to the metal.

Two minutes later, Steve was helping Thor get Jane out of the car and onto a wheelchair to be rushed into the emergency room. Two more minutes after that and Tony was entering the emergency room, after having parked the car in a hurry, and looking for his friends and his boyfriend in panic—what if Jane had a difficult delivery? What if the baby’s life was now in danger, all because they took a long time to get her to the hospital?

“Tony!”

Turning on his waist, Tony faced the direction where he’d heard someone call his name. Steve rose from one of the metal chairs pushed against the wall of one of the side aisles leading from the main hospital atrium into another network of corridors. He still looked worried but considerably less so now that they’ve gotten the Odinsons to the hospital in one piece.

“Where’s Thor and where’s your jacket?” Tony asked, raking a hand through his hair while clutching on to Steve’s now-exposed forearm with the other.

“I lent it to Thor as we were coming in. He had to go talk to hospital admission personnel to get Jane settled in, so he needed to be a bit more decent than half-naked, plus it’s cold and he had to have been uncomfortable,” said Steve, pulling Tony back to the chairs so they could sit. “The female nurses didn’t seem to have any complaints about his state of dress, though they did think when we were coming in that he was some kinda hobo helping me get my pregnant wife to the hospital.”

“They first thought you were the dad?” Tony asked, tittering slightly and imagining how Steve must have looked trying to straighten out that misunderstanding. Steve’s only reply to that was a short laugh.

“So where’d they take Jane? Any word yet on how she is?” Tony asked again.

“Tony, it’s only been _minutes_ since you dropped us off out front,” said Steve in jest, looking at Tony through the curtain of his thick eyelashes. “We don’t have any word yet on how they’re doing. By the power of Thor’s bare abs and charm, though, she’s probably already been whisked off to a room within seconds of getting here to wait further until she’s fully dilated for delivery.”

Tony looked at his boyfriend in wonder and said, “how do you know so much about the…mechanics of _birthing_?!”

“I _did_ mention to you before that my mom was a nurse, right? Well, she always told me a lot about her work and the more exciting things to happen during her work hours, and I just happen to remember a lot of her stories,” remarked Steve with a lop-sided grin. Tony noted how Steve averted his eyes to the ground but a fond smile was still on his handsome features. There was always fondness and pride whenever Steve remembered his mother, Sarah Rogers, who had passed away when he was seventeen. And he had indeed told Tony numerous stories and fond memories about his mother including how Sarah used to be nurse.

They remained where they sat, tensely expecting any word from Thor or the medical personnel passing them by. Tony didn’t have the heart to ask Steve if they could leave already now that they’ve already deposited the Odinsons to the hospital as they promised their friends they would. He knew for a fact that neither he nor Steve would be able to do much celebrating until they’d satisfied themselves that Jane and the baby were both safe and healthy.

“We can always text Thor if we need to go already,” Steve offered, staring at Tony apologetically, even though he didn’t have anything to be sorry for.

Biting his lower lip, Tony exhaled through his nose. He was severely conflicted. The part of him that was worried for Jane and the baby wanted to stay until they’ve had word that mother and child were all right, but the part of him that had such grand plans for the night in the company of his sexy and delicious boyfriend and who had never, in a million years, imagined that he would be spending such a momentous relationship milestone driving a screaming woman in labor and waiting in the hospital, wanted to go already to salvage what was left of their evening. “We can stay for a couple more minutes, right? I just…want to make sure that Jane and the baby are OK,” Tony countered, looking at Steve apologetically also. “Unless, _you_ want to leave already—”

Steve smiled radiantly again. It was the smile that Tony loved so much. “No, no, I’d like to stay, too, until we know that they’re OK.”

After what felt like a little over an hour of sitting in companionable silence beside each other, Tony was just beginning to nod off when he was nudged completely awake by Steve. Thor was approaching, but for the life of him, Tony couldn’t discern the inscrutable expression on the larger blonde’s face. Did something unexpected happen? Were Jane and the baby safe?

Tony barely got a word out when Thor enveloped him in a fierce hug that just about squeezed the breath out of him. “We have a beautiful and healthy baby girl, my friends!” Thor announced, voice shaky with emotion. He let go of Tony and seized Steve in a similar embrace. “I am so very glad to be sharing this significant moment with the two of you!”

When the new father let Steve go, Tony saw that Thor’s face was streaked with tears but graced with a vibrant smile, and Tony had to admit that the look suited him. Turning towards Steve, Tony saw gladness etched on the latter’s face as well and the brunette suddenly had it in him to imagine how _Steve_ would look like had he been the one in Thor’s shoes.

Their small celebration was suddenly interrupted by the shrill ringing of Thor’s phone that he had clutched in his landscape architect’s hand, no doubt he had been using it to take the first photos and videos of his beautiful princess. “I’m sorry but I have to take this call; my family is quite eager to hear news about Jane and the baby.”

Steve gestured his go-ahead, sidling back up beside Tony to surreptitiously squeeze the latter’s hand. The blonde still sported a wide smile that made him even more breathtaking, if that was possible. Tony would do and give anything just for Steve to keep smiling like that.

And the brunette was dead-certain that this may as well be the most unconventional monthsary celebration they’ve had—or would ever have—but this was also going to be the most memorable and fulfilling. For both of them.

Tony sneaked a soft and quick kiss to Steve’s temple.

“What’s that for?” Steve asked with a puzzled grin.

“Nothing,” Tony murmured against the shell of Steve’s ear. “Best monthsary _ever_ …” He grinned toothily while Steve heartily laughed at that.

“You take me to the best places,” Steve cheekily commented with a return kiss to Tony’s cheek.

“That was my brother.” Thor was back, having finished his call. He seemed like the wide smile currently emblazoned on his face would be permanent. “He said that they are excited to meet the baby; he and my parents would be flying in from Norway immediately for a visit.”

“We’re looking forward to meeting them, Thor,” Steve said, tearing his eyes away from his boyfriend.

“And we’re also excited to meet the little Princess,” Tony interjected, which made Thor grin wider if that was possible.


End file.
